THE last time we were here, it took punk music to get us all out alive. For this is the risen vampire of prog rock, leaching your blood away with every leaden, lumpen note.
Bizarrely, bluegrass is the tag the band would like to cling to. It may be grass they're smoking, but it sure ain't blue as they set forth on soporific tracks such as opener Wake Up.
Throw in the odd Irish jig, a lead singer who refers to himself as "this transitory piece of celestial matter" and, oddly, a blatant rip-off of Little Fluffy Clouds and you have a dire piece of plastic. Somebody, anybody, take this lot and hang them from the nearest Porcupine Tree - and next time we kill off this particular revenant, somebody drive home a stake.
Updated: 11:51 Thursday, March 18, 2004
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